It hit like chronic to the lungs, sharp,  blissful pain. Reality My daily dose, chalk full of excitement, pleasure, and vigorous torture.  
I am defeated. I am shattered.
My head plays like a grimy ***** with bad shots. My affection is a void of self loathing and set on fire by pity.
The smile I use masks the pain of my true self, for the most troublesome people, bring the most joy to the world, for if they cannot be happy at least the others around them can. I will not apologize for whom iv become. No one has apologized for making me this why.